Whether they are nostalgic immigrants from the Black Sea or just cheap vodka drinkers, most clients in this smoky, down-to-Russian-earth bar near the Theater District are regulars. Some Americans enjoy casual conversations at the bright front bar, but comrades prefer keeping secrets in the intimate back room. Try smoked veal tongue with Khvanchkara wine from Georgia, Stalin's favorite (he is still talked of in the present tense here). The Russian bartender and the music are very 80s, and the stories as outdated as Peter the Great, or as current as green card lotteries.